


Wrong Place, Wrong Time

by naughtical_nbd



Series: Naughtical Requests [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Also Perhaps..., Anal Sex, Being Walked In On, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Caught in the Act, M/M, That Becomes Slightly Less Casual, Workplace Sex, catching feelings, whoops!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25997386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtical_nbd/pseuds/naughtical_nbd
Summary: Anon requested: "Tim and Martin fuckin in document storage loud enough that Jon gets up to go see what on earth is going on."Tim and Martin make some questionable decisions.
Relationships: Implied/Referenced Jon/Tim, Implied/Referenced Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Series: Naughtical Requests [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538620
Comments: 9
Kudos: 168





	Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Author's Note:**

> Anon requested: "Tim and Martin fuckin in document storage loud enough that Jon gets up to go see what on earth is going on." What I ended up writing is not exactly that, but it's pretty close. Might try the same concept again but make it a little less tender and a little more porny sometime? Or maybe edit this, I don't know lol. But this was sitting unfinished in my drafts for like six months, so I just gritted my teeth and slapped an ending on it hoping this might help my writer's block. I hope y'all enjoy!

At first, it doesn’t seem like a bad idea, a friendly hook-up that promises both of them a good time without all the awkwardness of negotiating with a stranger. It’s Martin’s first time _ever_ with penetration involved, and Tim wants to make it good for him, give him all the bliss first before he discovers the nitty-gritty of prep work. So he shows up to Martin’s place ready for him, and makes some lukewarm crack about the mattress being a _pull-out,_ and isn’t that ironic, and lets Martin fuck him fast and slick down on all fours. It’s a good time; Martin finishes long before Tim was ever going to get close, but he’s a gentleman about it, blows him afterwards, even fingers him gently while he does it. The problem, Tim supposes, begins there.

Martin is far too tender with him, for starters, sucks him off like he’s grateful for the opportunity, swallowing readily when he finishes. And then he _kisses_ Tim afterwards, which realistically shouldn’t be hot, except Tim can’t actually taste himself at all, which says volumes about how deep Martin must have taken him. Martin kisses like he’s fallen in love, falling deeper with every soft and needy gasp against Tim’s mouth, and that’s no good either because Tim happens to know for a fact that he’s absolutely smitten with their crusty wanker of a boss. That was half the _point_ of this. Martin was supposed to be getting _over_ him, reminded that there are plenty of other options out there, but it wasn’t Tim’s goal to present himself as an _alternative_ so much as snap Martin out of his weird reverie.  
  
(Jon isn't actually a crusty wanker, he's just under a lot of stress, but he's putting Tim under a lot of bloody stress himself as a result, lately, and sex can only do so much to help that when Jon isn't actually involved.)

But he stays the night when Martin insists it’s too late to take a cab home, even though it’s only half midnight. He sleeps in Martin’s bed, in his arms, head pillowed against his fuzzy chest. When they both wake up half-hard, Tim pulls them off lazily, leaking cocks pressed together in his hand, his forehead against Martin’s warm shoulder. And when Martin invites him over again next week, swaying shyly and wringing his hands, Tim accepts.

He half expects a home-cooked candlelight dinner, with the way Martin’s been acting. Instead he gets fucked over the back of the couch, his cock rubbing like a tease up against the second hand leather upholstery and his pants around his ankles. It’s an overwhelmingly pleasant surprise, delightful in the way Martin seems bashful to manhandle him, but he does it anyway, delicate sighs as he impales Tim on his cock, as thick and broad as the rest of him. The doorbell rings while Tim is riding him on the sofa, and Martin sheepishly admits it’s the takeout he ordered. “I had sort of a different plan for tonight,” he says, breathless and gorgeously flushed, “but the closer you got to getting here the more I, ah, couldn’t stop thinking about you, and-?”

“Jesus, Martin,” Tim huffs, slowing his movements, taking a minute to appreciate the way Martin stretches him as he sinks down. “I thought you said you’d had a dry spell.”

“I have! That’s the point!” He protests, glancing distractedly at the door but making no move to dislodge Tim from his position on his lap.

“Well I can’t bloody imagine why,” Tim says, and kisses him, open-mouthed and greedy. Later they eat cold takeout in the bedroom, sweaty and half-dressed. They don’t finish it.

That’s fine, for a while- Better than fine, because Martin is secretly a _great_ lay out of nowhere, especially for someone who claims to lack much experience. Martin’s mouth is far more wicked than his soft, dimpled smile would suggest, and his fingers are almost better than his cock- _almost,_ with its plump, flushed head pushing out from the foreskin, the subtle curve to its thickness. He’s lovely and loud when Tim fucks him, too, practically melting into the mattress, and that’s before Tim’s even got his cock in him. When he’s finally mounted he goes tense and trembling, rocking eagerly back on Tim’s length so that all he has to do for a minute is sit still and enjoy himself. Bringing him home, or accompanying him as the case may be, is nothing short of a treat.

Martin’s also got warm brown eyes, and a crooked, derisive grin when Tim makes an awful joke in his direction, and his fluttering giggle when Tim kisses his soft, pillowy thighs is a precious thing. And for the first couple weeks or so, he’s good with keeping things professional at work. Maybe the occasional glance of warm conspiracy, a private smile- But that was the extent of it. Otherwise, they were the picture of civility. It was working out great, until Tim bends over to pick up a pen he dropped and catches Martin staring. It’s the most cliché thing in the world, and yet the next thing Tim knows he’s getting a frenzied handjob in the janitorial closet while Martin sucks a possessive bruise into his neck.

That’s their mistake, really, not keeping up the boundary during work hours. But _Christ,_ it’s hard to let better sense prevail when Martin’s hand is creeping up underneath his shirt, and his mouth is on the soft spot behind Tim’s ear, and his warm weight is pressing Tim against a storage shelf, breath coming hot in the silent, stuffy basement. Sasha almost catches them twice, but one time Martin manages to tuck himself back in his trousers at record speed, and the other they’re really only kissing. She gives them shit for it good-naturedly for a week or so, calling them _lovebirds,_ and it’s almost worth it for the way it makes Martin blush.

It’s Martin’s idea to try hooking up in document storage. Tim suspects that Martin has really developed a _thing_ for the risk of discovery, and he might tease about it, if it weren’t for the fact that he has a pretty solid exhibitionist streak himself. And god, he _knows_ fucking at work is obnoxious at best, a fireable offense at worst, but Sasha doesn’t come looking for them anymore, and since when has Jon bothered to actually leave his office the past couple of weeks? Besides, when he mentions the room in question happens to be soundproof, Tim can’t miss the way Martin’s eyebrows go up, his posture straightening in interest.

There’s no time for a proper fuck when they first stumble in there on their lunch break, already palming each other through their trousers, so Tim drops to his knees and sucks him off messily, one hand between Martin’s legs cupping his balls and rubbing teasingly at his hole. At first, Martin keeps his mouth shut, biting his lips to stay quiet out of habit. But when Tim pulls back with a sinful grin, gives him a few rough strokes and says, “Come on, I want to _hear_ you,” it’s only a few seconds before Martin is coming with a high, desperate whine. Tim nearly doesn’t get his mouth on him in time. “ _Jesus,_ Martin,” he says, wiping his face on his sleeve. “I’m starting to think you’re really into this.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Martin replies breathlessly. His knees are trembling slightly. Tim looks up at him, disheveled hair, flushed high on his cheekbones, clothes rumpled and stroking himself idly as he comes down from orgasm. “Call it a hunch,” he says.

Martin laughs fondly, pushing back the hair that’s fallen into his face. “At least let me take care of you, if you’re gonna make me go to pieces like that.”

“Well I can’t say no to that offer,” says Tim, trying for a winning smile and ending up with something a lot more heated.

Admittedly, it’s their fault for getting too bold. Document storage is such an insulated room that they can get away with just about anything, _provided_ the chance of someone needing a bloody document from storage is zero to none. During lunch breaks, it generally is, but apparently expecting that Jon stick to a predictable, reasonable schedule is simply too much to ask.

Still, when he walks in, eyes distractedly on his watch, then looks up to see Tim bent over a filing cabinet with Martin’s cock buried in his arse, Tim can’t help but feel the full weight of _every_ decision they made in failing to avoid this. Jon looks mortified; the massive stack of papers he’s holding tumble out of his arms to scatter spectacularly across the floor, and he doesn’t seem to notice. Tim feels like he’s watching some kind of disaster, where he can’t tear his eyes away. Behind him, Martin jerks, trying to muffle a pathetic little groan, and a second later Tim can feel his cum leaking obscenely down the inside of one thigh. _Jesus, Martin,_ he thinks, or maybe even mutters aloud, because Jon flinches, then scrambles to get behind the door again, like a barrier will make the entire situation less real.

“Unacceptable,” he says to the floor, strangely breathless, and then again, louder: “Unacceptable! Clean yourselves up and- and I’ll find some way to _deal_ with the two of you, for Christ’s sake.” With that, Jon shuts the door clumsily, pinning a few of the papers he’s dropped against the frame in the process.

“Ooh, fuck,” Martin says, sounding as if he’s lost his balance somehow. His cock is still softening inside Tim. “What are- Oh, my god, we are absolutely _fucked._ ”

“I’m not,” Tim blurts, which is maybe not completely appropriate, but it’s just registered that he’s harder right now than he’s probably ever been in his life.

“I- What?” Martin says, distracted as he gingerly pulls out of Tim. “What do you m-”

Tim shuffles around as fast as he can, his erection bobbing desperately between his legs. “Martin, can you- Ah, oh.” He draws in a breath through his teeth as his cock brushes up against Martin’s bare thigh. “Please,” he tries, sheepish and sweaty. “Please, I can’t even think about-”

The look Martin gives him is so painfully lovestruck, Tim can feel it, like a static shock traveling along the current of his arousal. “Okay,” he whispers, cupping Tim’s cheek in one broad palm, and kisses him. “I’ll take care of you,” he says against Tim’s lips.

Martin’s other hand wraps around Tim’s weeping cock, smearing the beads of precum with the warm pad of his thumb. He swallows Tim’s moan of relief just as eagerly as he ever has, and for a moment, Tim allows himself to feel like this might not have been such a terrible mistake after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me over at my [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/naughtical_nbd) if you enjoyed this one! Feedback always appreciated, and I'm always open for requests, although right now I have like 26 outstanding lmao. Encouragement would also be nice, since this is the first thing I've been able to write in like a good two months! Darn you quarantine. And as always, please let me know if there's a tag or warning I missed.


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